


A Soulful Spring

by thesinbin



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1621916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesinbin/pseuds/thesinbin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aida Riko and Hyuuga Junpai should be a couple, says the Seirin basketball team. Takao and his Shin-chan should probably consider talking more openly with each other, says Shuutoku High. How did we not see this coming? groans a tired Seirin as Kuroko disappears behind Kagami's glow. Oh god why, cries Kaijou and Touou as Aomine fumbles and Kise is amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This story wouldn't be possible without the incredible plot-making skills of my friend Angelica. All I do is put the plot into story format. Posted with her permission.

Aida Riko was most definitely not feeling in tip-top shape. All throughout the day she’d listened to the teachers drone on and on about things she wasn’t interested in. Honestly, who wanted to know why the third Emperor of Japan had a dragon for his daemon? Aida was much more interested in the next game that the Seirin basketball team would be playing. So interested, in fact, that she hadn’t been able to get an hour of sleep without waking to thoughts of strategies and new training menus to assign to certain blue-haired shadows and their redheaded lights. “Riko.” Aida jumped slightly. Had she really been so lost in thought that she’d missed the bell that announced the end of the school day?

“Ah, sorry, Eiji.” The brunette said sheepishly, smiling at the daemon seated beside her. “I keep thinking about the next match.” Eiji merely chuckled in amusement before rising to all fours and shaking himself from head to toe.

“First you stop sleeping, now you don’t focus during class.” The bear beside her said, brown eyes glancing between her and the white board at the front of the classroom. He tilted his head. “Keep going and your dad will worry, you know.” That was Eiji for you, always showing Aida the error of her ways. Not that she strayed from the path of righteousness all that often. Sure, now and then her sadistic side might surface when she ordered the team to run around the gym for half of practice, but she always made up for it some way or another.

“I know.” Aida replied simply, packing up her school bag and rising from her chair. She didn’t bother to mention that she already knew her father was aware she wasn’t sleeping well since she stayed up so late making new strategies for her team. “I’ll be sure to go to bed extra early tonight!” Eiji gave a disbelieving roll of his eyes before lumbering after the excited brunette.

Now came Aida’s favorite time of day, when school teachers no longer gave lullabies instead of lectures and terror in the place of tests. That’s not to say that Aida wasn’t good at testing. It’s quite the opposite, in fact. Aida was better than the average student in all her studies. After all, what good would it do to have an airheaded basketball coach? Aida waved goodbye to her friends, Eiji nodding in farewell, before she hustled down the long corridors toward the gym. She knew it would still be a while before her players would eventually trickle into the gym, and it certainly didn’t help that Kuroko Tetsuya and his daemon Fuyuko, a black cat with startling blue eyes, could consistently disappear as soon as she stopped looking directly at the two. While it irked Aida herself, Eiji couldn’t help but find humor in the situation.

“Eiji,” Aida began, pushing open the door and holding it so the bear could pass through unhassled, “do you have any ideas for a training menu? I want Kagami to strengthen his legs again, but it’s hard to do when we don’t have any sand, and just having him run all practice would be rather cruel, don’t you think?” I suppose it would be of benefit to mention that Eiji, who, for all intents and purposes did nothing but support the first year duo, didn’t mind causing them a bit (or quite a lot) of grief when it came to training menus.

“Dig a hole and have him jump out of it.” Eiji replied with a sly smile. “Keep making it deeper every time he actually manages to get out.”

“Get who out of where?” In walked a familiar redheaded idiot, lovingly called Bakagami by the Seirin basketball team. At over six feet, Kagami Taiga had a lot of height over the significantly shorter Aida. His daemon, Akari, a significantly less airheaded tiger, was not as big as Eiji, but had a rather unfortunate short fuse that her human shared. The tiger, just as confident and twice as graceful as her human counterpart, strode toward the much amused Eiji and touched noses with him in greeting.

“Nothing.” Aida answered dismissively, waving a hand to try and avert Kagami’s attention. “Have you seen Kuroko?” Kagami blinked not once, not twice, but three times and stared directly to his left.

“He was just here...” Kagami replied hesitantly, scowling. “That brat, always running off and-”

“I’m right here, Kagami-kun.” The tall redhead jumped a good six inches, clutching his chest and staring at his left in surprise once more. “I’ve been here this whole time.”

“Then Fuyuko-”

“I am here as well.” replied the unruffled feline with a small sigh. Eiji and Akari started with shock before greeting the smaller house cat. Fuyuko sat gracefully with her tail curling about her paws, giving no signs at being offended at her lack of presence. The only inclination the others had about her irritation was the way her left ear twitched ever so slightly, as it always did when the other daemons failed to notice her.

Soon the other members of the Seirin basketball club began to filter in in pairs or threes, grinning and chatting with the others about what a third year had done, or how the freshmen were being disrespectful, or even how the local convenience store had a rather attractive young lady manning the counter, with an equally attractive daemon curled about her feet. The daemons all sat to the side of the court, chattering happily, feigning sleep, or watching their counterparts warm up for practice with careful gazes. If humans thought getting sore after practice was a bad experience, the daemons thought it worse when they hadn’t done anything and were equally as sore as their humans. Eiji was just grateful that all the daemons had settled and there wasn’t anyone who switched forms on whim and caused irritation among the settled daemons.

Amused at Eiji’s more than audible rumbling, Aida turned to her players and gave them their training menus for the day, directing Kuroko and Kagami to another part of the gym so they could practice together more efficiently. If someone actually bothered to look at the two daemons who followed their humans toward the other side of the gym and sat down once more, they would see Akari sitting as proudly as ever, red eyes watching Kagami closely as Fuyuko nestled herself between the tigress's front paws. What was much more interesting, however, was how a certain spectacled player’s daemon curled into Eiji’s side and started up a rather amiable conversation. Not that anyone bothered to comment on them, as usual.

If one were to look much more closely, however, they’d notice that Eiji’s face softened slightly, and how the other daemon grinned in response to an offhand comment. Some of the other daemons snickered in understanding, while their humans continued to practice and ignored the usual racket caused by their counterparts.

After a long practice of rather sadistic drills and strengthening exercises, Aida blew into her whistle, a signal for the boys to stop practice and gather around her so she could tell them her announcements. The daemons glanced up at the sound of the shrill whistle, knowing they’d have to part with each other soon and go to their respective houses. “Listen up!” Aida called, crossing her arms over her chest and letting the whistle drop from her lips. “I think you all know this already, but Seirin’s annual cultural fair is coming up soon, and club activities will be suspended in order for classes to prepare for the festival.” A certain idiot groaned and grumbled in response.

“Oi!” Hyuuga said, pushing up his glasses with a finger as his daemon, Mayu, a surprisingly gentle yet somehow incredibly aggressive wolf, moved to sit at his feet. “You should know that Seirin’s cultural festival is a priority of the school! Misbehave and you’ve shamed the basketball club!” Mayu and Eiji shared a smug look that did not go unnoticed by Koganei and his alley cat Nariko.

“Exactly.” Aida said with a rather terrifying closed-eyed smile. “Do your best, okay?” Certain players sweatdropped awkwardly in response and gave their much-loved coach rather nervous smiles.

“Riko, that was not exactly a motivating smile.” Hyuuga commented uncomfortably. “Terrifying them won’t make them do any better.”

“Nonsense.” Aida replied cheerily. “They just need a little reminder.” Hyuuga merely raised an eyebrow in response and shook his head.

“So just say ‘do your best’ and be done with it. Smiling at us like that makes us wonder if you’re going to kill us.” Hyuuga responded, shifting his weight slightly.

“Nothing wrong with tough love!” Aida said with determination. “I’m only reminding everyone that we have to keep this club’s reputation up. We wouldn’t want to be thought of as delinquents, you know.” Somehow, the whole gym managed to freeze over at the thought of the petite woman’s reaction if any of the basketball players somehow managed to sully the club’s good name. Hyuuga decided it was probably best to drop the subject before he was the subject of her wrath.

“If you say so.” He said before clamping his mouth shut. Koganei snickered beside him.

“You two are like a married couple.” He said, lips curving into an unusually sly smile. Nariko nodded her head up and down, rubbing against Koganei’s leg leisurely.

“For sure.” The cat said with an equally sly smile gracing her face. She then yawned and laid down on the shiny floor.

“Ehhhh?” Aida replied, her voice raised a few octaves too high. Eiji winced as he wondered if her voice could actually go high enough to break glass.

“Idiot!” Hyuuga replied with flushed cheeks. “What do you think you’re saying?” Koganei received a rather violent whack to the back of his head that had even Nariko stumbling forward due to its force.

“That hurt.” Nariko hissed with irritation as Koganei rubbed the offended place gingerly.

“I agree with Koganei.” Kuroko replied quietly. As the two second years turned to glare at the blue-haired shadow, Kuroko and Fuyuko took refuge behind the much taller, glaringly obvious Kagami and Akira. There wasn't really much to be done when the tigress sheltered the small cat and Kagami didn't particularly protest being used as a human shield.

     Hyuuga sighed rather wistfully while Aida simply hung her head in defeat. "Anyway, since we won't be gathering as a team until the culture festival is over, Hyuuga, Kiyoshi, and I thought it would be a good idea to go grab something to eat together. You don't have to go if you have other plans tonight, but we hope you will." Aida said with a brilliant smile.

The second years were the first to eagerly agree to go, followed quite swiftly by the energetic first years. While Mitobe looked rather calm and pleased, his daemon, a tall horse by the name of Isae, would not stop chattering or clomping around excitedly, quite possibly saying everything for the ever-silent second year. The less than patient Akira politely but pointedly asked the overly energetic daemon to settle down. Isae could take a hint and settled down, but only because Akira had no qualms about lying down in the wrong place at precisely the right time, something Kagami detested quite a bit. With all the noise of energetic teenage boys, the Seirin basketball team, their daemons, and Aida all left school to head to the nearest restaurant. Aida pitied the restaurant for having to attend to the needs of boys with bottomless pits for stomachs.

 

Hyuuga

 

The restaurant we went to was as loud as usual, with the din of pots and pans sounding from the kitchens in the back mingling with the yells of a foolish Koganei and Isae’s constant chattering. Truth be told, I’m very happy that Mitobe is significantly less talkative than Isae. If they both spoke as much as that overly friendly horse does, I think we’d all stab our ears with scissors or something. Once again, Seirin had escaped ill fortune by the skin of its teeth. Thank God.

Mayu bumped my hand slightly at my side, a rather pointed reminder that I shouldn’t be spacing out like this. I offered her a quick smile before grabbing my chopsticks to stack my plate up with as much food as possible, before Bakagami and Kiyoshi could take everything.

I always knew that Kagami ate a lot. I mean, it’s a given if you just look at the guy. Big and ferocious and stupid as hell, this stupid redhead could’ve eaten a banquet and not left a morsel for the rest of us if he had the option to do so. Just looking at his plate made me feel like I’d already overeaten. What was most amusing, however, was looking at Kuroko in comparison, and looking at how little food he had compared to Kagami. “Bakagami,” I said, pushing my glasses up with a rather irritated finger. “look at your plate, and look at Kuroko’s.”

Kagami gave me a look similar to a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. The redhead glanced between his plate, loaded with all the tasty morsels he could grab, and Kuroko’s, which looked rather barren and spartan. “Can you even survive off that little food?” Kagami asked incredulously, looking at the smaller blunette in shock, eyes wide and awed.

Kuroko simply gave the redhead a long-suffering sigh and nodded silently, continuing to eat. “Kuroko, you should really eat more than that.” Riko said from beside me, brown eyes clouding over with worry. Her hair looks a little longer today. “Kagami, make sure he finishes his plate.” Our ace looked over at Kuroko from the corner of his eyes.

“Well that should be easy.” He replied.

“Actually, I believe I’m at my limit.” Kuroko said evenly, setting his chopsticks down and pushing his plate away. Kagami’s eyes widened.

“Kuroko, finish your plate.” I said with a sigh. “How do you expect to play properly if you eat so little?”

“I am simply more efficient. I don’t need as much food as the rest of you.” comes the blunt reply.

“Kuroko, eat your food.” Riko said flatly. Kuroko gave her his signature kicked-puppy expression, much like when he’d gotten Nigou and chased Bakagami around with the dog. The boy sighed once more and slowly but surely got back to clearing his plate. Kagami eats at least three times as much as Kuroko...

“It’s Mama Bear Aida-chan!” Koganei said with a foolish grin all over his face. “Mama Aida and Papa Hyuuga looking after baby Kuroko!” Kuroko vanished from the table as soon as Koganei opened his mouth, and I envied his ability to magically disappear. My face felt like a furnace as I tried to cool the heat rising to my cheeks.

“Shut up, Koganei!” I hissed in irritation. I did my best not to look in the direction of Riko at all. I vaguely wondered if she was blushing as much as I was, or if she was indifferent to Koganei’s jab. That boy was seriously lucky that we weren’t in the same class, because if we were, I’d be sure to prod him with a sharpened pencil for the next week. It didn’t seem like Riko even thought about what Koganei said for more than a minute, because she was back into convincing Kuroko to eat until he exploded. Slowly, the heat in my cheeks retreated until all that was left was the memory of blood rushing up to color them.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter Two

Kagami sat with a look of utter concentration etched upon his brow, eyebrows drawn from focus. Beside him, Akira swished her tail from side to side leisurely as she watched the childish redhead give his partner the evil eye. Somehow, Kagami Taiga was losing at a game that he’d just introduced to Kuroko- sticks. The game itself was fairly simple. Each finger counted as a single stick, and once your hand had used up all five fingers, that hand was out. Players could add the number of “sticks” they had on one hand to their competitor, but only by the number they themselves had on one hand. Kagami was most definitely losing. With four fingers and a hand out, it was time for him to pull his last card out. “Bump!” Kagami practically shrieked, tapping his “out” hand with the four-fingered one and splitting it so his hands were now two and two. “That takes up my turn.”

Kuroko, not to be bested at a mere children’s game, tapped his three-fingered hand and effectively eliminated one hand. Kagami swore rather forcefully. “Calm down, Taiga.” Akari said with an irritated flick of her ears. “It’s just a game.” For all of Kagami’s competitiveness, Akari was much more lax when it came to competition.  Kuroko nodded in agreement.

“Please control yourself.” Kuroko said flatly. Fuyuko snickered.

“Like you aren’t being competitive, too.” She said, ears flicking back and forth with amusement. Kuroko pointedly ignored the amused daemon. The chatter in the room seemed to fade into silence as the two players continued to glare each other down for a few minutes.

“Taiga, just admit your loss.” Akari said, nudging the tall boy with her nose. “You’re being irritating.” Kagami gave the tigress a pointed glare and turned back to his blue-haired companion. Just as he opened his mouth to maybe, possibly, perhaps admit that he’d been bested just this once by the bluenette, the door to the classroom slide open with a rather forceful smack. Silence draped itself over the room and wrapped its arms around everyone but a certain golden-haired model. He promptly shut the door in time to drown out the screams of certain girls.

“Hello, Kise-kun.” Kuroko said calmly, going back to his game of sticks.

“Kurokocchi!” Kise Ryouta said with glee, flouncing his way over to the silent blue boy. “Did you miss me-ssu?” Tailing Kise was an equally sleek and model-worthy cheetah named Chika. Fuyuko rubbed against Chika’s legs with a pleased smile on her face. Akari gave the cheetah a reserved lick to the ear.

“No.” Kuroko replied flatly. He then tapped Kagami’s remaining hand, effectively ending the game, much to Kagami’s indignation. The redhead turned to greet the bubbly blond.

“Kise.” Kagami said respectfully, giving the boy a nod.

“Kagamicchi!” Kise replied with a grin. “How’s Seirin’s team doing? Do we play you anytime soon?” The blond rattled off a long list of questions without so much as a second’s hesitation or a deep breath for air. Kagami’s eyebrow twitched in irritation.

“Kise-kun, control yourself.” Kuroko said, leaning back in his chair and opening his latest novel. “Nobody can answer any of your questions if you don’t give them any time to answer.” Kise’s mouth snapped shut quite quickly, a feat Kagami hadn’t known was possible.

“Once more, your ability to silence just about anyone with that bluntness of yours astounds me.” Akira said with wide, red eyes. “It’s almost admirable.” Fuyuko gave a proud purr from beside Chika, who merely flicked her tail back and forth with amusement.

“C’mon, Ryouta.” Chika said with enough attitude for several people. “I thought you wanted to talk with Kuroko and Kagami, not talk to them.” Kise gave his well-groomed daemon a wounded look as the playful light in his eyes dimmed with disappointment.

“First Kurokocchi and now you, Chikacchi?” Kise whined in his usual boyish manner. “I’ll end up crying myself to sleep.”

“I’m on your side!” Fuyuko chirped cheerily. “That means Tetsuya can’t completely hate you.” Kise merely deflated further.

“Of course, Fuyukocchi.” Kise said. The usually cheerful blond brightened after another few moments and leaned over Kuroko’s shoulder. “Whatcha readin’ Kurokocchi?” Kuroko flipped a page leisurely before glancing at the curious blond.

“A novel.” He replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world (which, in Fuyuko’s opinion, it should’ve been). Kise merely laughed.

“What’s it about?” Kagami raised an eyebrow as he watched his partner and the over-enthusiastic model interact. Was it just him, or had Kise been leaning on Kuroko, heck, almost draped completely across the bluenette’s shoulders, for quite a while now? His curiosity was somewhat sated as he noted that Kuroko had only given the blond rather brisk, business-like answers to every question.

“You’re staring!” Akira hissed, nudging the redheaded dimwit somewhat forcefully with her nose. “Although it’s not like I don’t understand why.” The tigress flicked her ears back and forth with an irritated glance at the blond. Kagami raised a forked eyebrow in response before shrugging.

“Kise-kun, you’re being bothersome.” Kuroko said after another few minutes of being harassed by the blond’s constant stream of questions. “If you’re that bored, perhaps you should seek out Aomine-kun instead.” Gold eyes widened with surprise before Kise gave Kuroko yet another wounded look.

“How cruel, Kurokocchi!” The model wailed, placing his hands on his hips and stepping away from the greatly irritated blunette. “I came all the way over here because I thought it would be fun if we hung out-ssu!” Kuroko didn’t bother to look up from his novel before giving Kise yet another verbal stab.

“Why did you think I wanted to hang out with you?” Chika gave an amused purr before Kise crouched in a far corner of the room, mumbling incoherently to himself. As hard as Kagami tried to listen, the only words he could clearly hear were Kurokocchi, how cruel, cry, and useless. “Kise-kun, you’re dampening the atmosphere. Please remove yourself from my school.”

  
  


Aomine Daiki was many things. Lazy, unmotivated, slightly less than intelligent, and perhaps even arrogant were all words that applied to him on a relatively frequent basis, but words such as lovestruck and giddy and anxious were most definitely not used to describe him. Yet here he was, hiding out in the back of a convenience store, pretending he wasn’t browsing the magazine stand on his way up and down the snack and beverage aisles. Etsuko, a rather aggressive and slightly terrifying panther, was growing very tired of his pacing. “Daiki.” She ground out, tail twitching in irritation. “Just grab a drink and stand at the stupid stand.” Aomine glanced down at the dark-furred daemon.

He knew for a fact that Etsuko’s temper was not something to be trifled with, and it more often than not ended with the panther’s claws ripping something of his to shreds, like his pillow last week. Perhaps that was why Etsuko was the only being aside from Momoi Satsuki and her daemon Hyosuke that could keep the blue-haired prodigy in line. “Fine, fine.” Aomine said with a sigh. “I get it.” With a long suffering sigh, Aomine grabbed a Pocari from the beverage section before staring at the magazine stand with equal parts irritation and anxiety. What would he do if someone saw him? He’d never be able to explain himself to any of his so-called teammates, let alone Akashi or any of the other Generation of Miracles.

“Daiki. Stop looking out the window and start looking through the magazines. I don’t want to be here either, you know.” Etsuko growled, nudging his knee with her head. “If you don’t want someone to see you, leave before they do.” But what was Aomine looking for? He didn’t want all the celebrity gossip magazines, and the home making magazines would be equally as useless. Aomine sped-read as fast as he possibly could, eyes seeking anything that could help him on his quest to solving his troubled love life issues.

There it is. Aomine thought with a grimace, his hand tightening reflexively around the Pocari can. Bright pink, obnoxious, and every bit as girly as Satsuki was. All it needed was a bow, some rather effeminate images of makeup (which, as a matter of fact, took up several glossy pages inside), and a big sign for him to wear around his neck. Aomine pretended to look at the much more masculine soccer magazine beside it, and even better, the trusty basketball one three rows above, but nothing, and I do mean nothing, would salvage Aomine’s pride as the cashier, a willowy teen of seventeen, practically shrank under Aomine’s rather dark glare lest he comment about the tall player’s one, unusual choice in light reading. Fortunately, the boy chose to say nothing about it, and survived with no battle injuries, save the growing patches of moisture that raced down the sides of his face and the sudden urge to use the restroom.

Aomine Daiki was a lucky guy. Thanks to his not quite so successful attempt at hiding the magazine under a few sports articles, he had the perfect sandwiching of light reading. It probably helped considerably that the convenience store only offered black plastic bags, and not something clear with which the whole world could possibly read every bit of the fluorescent pink kana on the cover of his new reading material.

He was even luckier to find that his parents would be out of town for the next few days, and would not be sneaking into his room in time to find the emasculating magazine. Aomine had more or less managed to retain one final shred of his dignity. For now, anyway. He was sure that Etsuko would keep her mouth shut (after all, his reputation was hers as well), but there was no telling what would happen lest Momoi or Hyosuke find it. The blue-haired wonder could only shudder in what he hoped was horror for a fantasy, and not a premonition for the future.

 

No matter how hard Aomine tried to pretend that buying the most feminine thing he’d ever read wasn’t at all bothering him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the hot pink words were burning holes in the underside of his futon, where he also happened to hide most other things he didn’t need Momoi or his parents finding. Male ego aside, Aomine was swimming in uncharted waters. This feeling of bubbly anxiety that didn’t feel bad, but also made him feel sick, wasn’t something he was entirely enjoying. It was something similar to eating something that gave him a horrid stomach ache, but he couldn’t give it up because the taste was so spectacular, so vibrant, so energizing, so youthful.

Of course, if the sweating of his palms around a certain person was anything to go by, Aomine was more than happy with pushing all these new feelings and sensations away until he could sort them out. Like maybe next year, or after he moved out of his parents’ place, or whenever he got a degree in college (something Etsuko scoffed at).

He wasn’t being unreasonable. No, for the male ego is a fragile thing, and love is nothing if not brutal. If anything, love had become a rather sadistic figure that did nothing but grind his previously enormous ego straight into the depths of hell, where Aomine figured it would remain until he finally got together with someone and didn’t have to worry about the awkward time between first seeing them and finally “officially” going out. All he had to do was keep it a very well-kept secret from Momoi, his mother and father, and practically anyone else he could name off the top of his head. Ah, yes. Aomine was screwed.

He shifted over the top of his futon, somehow feigning interest in his very boyish sports magazines, while his mind raced. He might as well get it over with. Reading the magazine, I mean. His parents wouldn’t be home, so there was nobody to catch him, and Etsuko sure wasn’t going to run her mouth, especially since she could feel just how lovestruck the blue-haired teen was. Besides, his reputation was hers, wasn’t it? Running her mouth was a surefire way to get Aomine pissed beyond all belief.

Etsuko watched Aomine blankly scan pages that would normally engross him for, perhaps, at least an additional three minutes. It was rather concerning, to be honest. Her tail flicked back and forth, expressing the nerves that Aomine would not, or could not, openly acknowledge. Honestly, why were men all so stubborn? She was sure that it would be best to ask Momoi or some other female what to do since they were generally more sympathetic toward lovestruck teens. It was probably something to do with how they generally looked rather stupefied and somewhat lost. Not that she was complaining, of course.

Etsuko was antsy. Ever since the blue-haired teen had stopped going to practice, he'd had an enormous reserve of energy that he never bothered to work off; rather, Aomine stifled it under his lazy personality, effectively thrusting both himself and his daemon into an ever-present foul mood that nothing but a good basketball game could solve. Of course, Aomine Daiki had yet to have said basketball game as far as he was aware, and thus condemned himself to a lifestyle that revolved around eating, sleeping, complaining, and otherwise annoying the day lights out of his teammates, both former and present. It was a miracle in and of itself that he even showed up to any of Touou's matches, something Momoi could only be grateful for.

Aomine’s new romantic troubles were only adding to the antsy nature of his daemon. He’d never admit it, but he know just how much it bothered Momoi and Etsuko alike. What was he to do? It wasn’t his fault that everyone else was so far behind him. Aomine honestly didn’t understand why everyone had been so upset when he’d quit going to practice. All it meant was that someone he could actually compete with would show up sooner. Etsuko understood. Etsuko always understood without needing to be told, something the bluenette was eternally grateful for (again, not that he’d ever, ever admit it), but the others, especially Kuroko and Kise, hadn’t understood at all. It wasn’t like Aomine hated basketball. He hated the lack of competition, the look on their opponent's faces as he dashed past them.

That, that he could deal with, even if he did it in ways the others disapproved of. This? The feeling of butterflies throwing a hell of a party in the pit of his stomach, the unnatural sweating of his palms, the dry mouth and stammering tongue that came with these uncharted waters? Aomine hadn’t the faintest idea of what to do, and Etsuko’s playful teasing wasn’t really much of a boost to his suffering ego.

Truth be told, he had almost gone to the pinkette, his childhood friend and possibly the only human being on the planet that could tolerate him, and asked for her advice. Then again, with her nonexistent progress with the ever stoic Kuroko Tetsuya, his confidence in her wasn’t exactly what it should’ve been. After all, Kuroko had continuously rebuffed her in the politest way possible, and although he was gentle, it was a rebuff nonetheless. Not that it had any effect on the pink-haired girl in the least. Momoi was still in la-la land when it came to Kuroko’s possible feelings on the matter.

Aomine groaned, rolling over and smashing his face into his pillow. What was he to do? He was bad with people, and Etsuko tended to terrify people with smaller, more prey-like daemons. It wasn’t like he chose his personality, but he sure as hell wasn’t complaining, either. Etsuko was an accurate portrait of himself any way he looked at it, and he wouldn’t change her for the world.

The bluenette thought back to when Etsuko had first met Kuroko’s daemon, Fuyuko, in her settled form. It had completely unsettled the majority of his classmates, something he hadn’t forgiven them for, but Kuroko had merely taken it in stride, already used to the dark-skinned player’s nature. Surprisingly, Fuyuko had no issue sidling up to the dark-furred panther and laying side-by-side with her. It was a stark opposite to what had happened with Chika had settled, of course, but Aomine had seen that one coming. Of course the model would be praised on having a predator for a daemon, even if it wasn’t all too different from his own. Not that anyone noticed, of course, but that was just the way things went.

Aomine sighed and reached out to pet Etsuko’s head. Feelings were troublesome things.

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Angelica, for your editing.

The sound of sneakers against waxy floors resounded through the gym. Admittedly, perhaps the gym wasn’t top notch, but it served its purpose well. Shuutoku High’s athletic facilities were almost as old as the school itself, and while they had been nothing if not breathtaking when the school first opened, they were now tired and asking for a few renovations.

Midorima Shintarou, however, couldn’t have cared any less. Fate had led him to this school, and if these were the facilities fate had in store for him, he wouldn’t argue. After all, it could effect his horoscope this year. He’d never been big on the teamwork thing in general, but so long as he made his shots, his teammates and their various states of irritation with him and Oha Asa were nothing to be troubled with. Takao, however, was something that did trouble him, not that he’d ever admit to such a thing.

“A three-pointer as usual, Shin-chan!” Takao chirped beside him. Midorima couldn’t help but think that Takao’s daemon, Hibiki, a hawk, suited him a little too much. His own daemon, a parrot whose feathers matched his hair named Hisae, something rather amazing, might’ve been a little more suitable for the constant chatter of Takao. Luckily, he’d been spared the talkative gene, something his mother had not. If he glanced over toward the side of the gym, he could see Hisae perched side by side with the sharp-eyed hawk, doing all the talking while Hibiki nodded her head good naturedly.

“Don’t call me ‘Shin-chan.’” The green-haired player’s reply was short and dry, as usual, although it did nothing to deter the constant stream of chatter that was about to be directed his way if he didn’t get back to practicing as quickly as possible. Of course, he practiced far longer after his teammates had retired to go home and study, with only Takao to keep him company as he practiced his shots.

“Let’s go, Shin-chan.” Takao said after a particularly long stretch of time. “It’s already dark outside!” Midorima stopped in his tracks, basketball resting between his palms, as he glanced out the open gym doors. Although it probably wasn’t as dark as Takao would say it is (after all, Takao probably wanted to go home), it was certainly dark enough that he’d be up later than usual to finish his seemingly endless amount of schoolwork. This time, the green-haired boy complied, putting away the seemingly ridiculous amount of basketballs littered across the floor.

The hawk-eyed Takao watched for a few minutes, giving up on counting how many shots it would take to spread so many balls across the floor, and picked up the ones nearest to him. It was almost like an end of practice, or rather an after practice ritual, for the two boys. Midorima was in the habit of continuing to practice long after the rest of the team had gone home, and Takao would stay behind to “keep on eye on him”, not that Midorima really needed much looking after. He was sure that Midorima would really rather be alone to practice, and often rebuked him for talking too much, but now that he thought about it, the green-haired boy had never rebuked him for staying with him.  If anything, Midorima seemed to appreciate the dark-haired teen’s presence. Not that he’d ever admit it. Takao figured he’d probably see a chicken revolution before Midorima admitted to liking anything.

Midorima wondered silently why Takao even bothered to help him clean up. After all, he hadn’t really done anything but watched as Midorima practiced shot after shot, practicing the same thing over and over. He wasn’t complaining, really. It was a nice change of pace from Teiko to have a teammate who also stayed after with him instead of skipping practice like Murasakibara and Aomine had been prone to do. When all was said and done, Midorima would take Shuutoku over Teiko any day of the week, regardless of what Oha Asa Horoscope might say.

It took another five minutes to get all the balls into the cart, push that into the supply closet, and make it back to the locker rooms. Hisae, who didn’t really share Midorima’s unusual dedication to his sport, had long since given up on attempting to persuade her human to quit practice even a little earlier than usual, although it seemed that Takao was capable of bringing practice to an end with only a few words. Midorima was dedicated to his routine, although part of that was likely out of fear for what it might do to his horoscope. For all of the teen’s superstition, Hisae didn’t share an ounce of it, and had absolutely no faith in what any horoscope, particularly Oha Asa, might say.

The locker room was dark and silent as a tomb until Takao flipped the lights on. The duo retrieved their belongings at a relaxed pace. That, of course, didn’t count the full five minutes it usually took Midorima to wrap his fingers properly. The teen was incredibly dedicated to taping it just right. Any changes to his left hand were an offense that Midorima wouldn’t hesitate to avenge, and he wouldn’t shoot, even just to attempt it, until everything was back to the way it originally had been.

That, of course, included not touching anything with said left hand if he just so happened to run out of tape, an incredibly rare and ridiculously stressful occurrence. One which, unfortunately, appeared to be happening as the green-haired boy searched through the back of his locker, the depths of his bag, and the pockets of his jacket. Hisae squawked and ruffled her feathers, showing how deeply the lack of tape was beginning to disturb Midorima. Hibiki and Takao exchanged an unreadable look before the dark-haired boy rifled through his bag and pulled out something that he tossed to the distraught Midorima. Silence permeated the room for a few minutes before Takao finally turned around to gauge Midorima’s superstitious stability. He was pleasantly rewarded.

The taller boy was holding a roll of crisp white tape, the same brand he always used, and staring at Takao with surprise. Wide green eyes peered at the hawk-eyed teen from behind clear lenses before glancing away.  Takao reigned in a smug expression to settle for a chipper smirk, watching as the green-haired boy resumed taping his fingers where he’d previously left off. Takao would claim that in that moment, as he would continue to claim until the end of time, that he definitely say the taller boy’s cheeks flush just a little, but they flushed nonetheless. Midorima would continue to deny it.

“Let’s go, Takao.” Midorima said as he grabbed his lucky item for the day, a canned hot soup that he was beginning to dislike carting around. Of course, he’d never, ever admit to that. It might change how well his horoscope would be the next day.

The two boys walked in a comfortable, unassuming silence from school grounds. The air was brisk, but not uncomfortable, and a slight breeze blew down the street, carrying the scent of fast food and car exhaust. The cherry blossom trees had yet to bloom, but that certainly didn’t stop the trees from filling up completely with vibrant, green leaves. Hisae and Hibiki had relinquished their perches on their humans’ shoulders in favor of riding the cool breeze that soared overhead, careful not to exceed their ranges. Takao wondered what it was like to fly, and had admitted to Hibiki on more than one occasion that he was a little jealous of her ability to fly, to leave the earth behind and explore fragments of the sky.

Midorima had no such thoughts. Sure, he thought flying might one day be interesting, but until that day would come, he was still struggling to keep Hisae from constantly running her mouth, or rather, her beak, about what flying was like. He was starting to detest the idea of flying, although it certainly wasn’t Hisae’s fault. Fate had ordained that he be land-bound, and so he kept his slight interest in taking to the sky hidden far below where his active mind would bother searching for it. “I need to get tomorrow’s lucky item.” Midorima said suddenly.

The disruption of their comfortable silence, by Midorima of all people, did nothing if not shock Takao. Normally, Midorima would go on his own to get his lucky item, doing nothing to involve the dark-haired teen, like it would effect how lucky said lucky item actually was. Takao didn’t particularly believe in luck, but he did believe in Midorima, and took it upon himself to humor him even if he was given some ridiculous request. After all, who was he to judge when it seemed that Midorima’s superstition was helpful to him in some manner.

“Okay.” replied Takao, wondering why he’d actually bothered to share the news. “Where would you like to go?” Midorima replied in his own brisk manner, rattling off the name of a shop Takao had even heard of, but it likely catered specifically to people as superstitious as Midorima was.

The shop was, as it turned out, a far cry from what Takao had imagined. He’d thought that such a shop would probably have darkened windows, strange color combinations of purple, red, and black, incredible amounts of ancient velvet, and perhaps too much herbs scenting the air for it to be particularly healthy. The shop was incredibly normal. It was brightly lit, with laundry-scented air and no trace of velvet in sight. The aisles were lined with things of all shapes and sizes, ranging from what appeared to be antenna-like headbands to watches or an all too familiar oversized racoon statue. Midorima walked past all of it without a second glance, stopping only once to pick up a green stuffed animal  that Takao would be pressed to identify without a second glance.

“Is that your lucky item?” Takao asked, motioning for Hibiki to, for the love of God, please bring him the bumblebee headband. Hibiki did it swiftly and silently, like she always did, more than used to her human’s rather childish antics. Takao continually assured her it was natural, normal, and above all, incredibly hilarious.  Somehow, Hibiki didn’t share the same lines of thinking.

Donning the headband, Takao waited for Midorima to turn around. Predictably, Midorima didn’t turn around as he answered. “No.” Raising an eyebrow, Takao wondered why he’d bother to pick up something he didn’t need, and stopped to take a selfie for the sake of his own personal amusement. It wasn’t as amusing as the thought, but hey, someone was bound to laugh, and Takao prided himself on being funny. Midorima turned around to catch Takao in the act. For a long, tense moment, there was nothing but silence as Takao struggled to gauge Midorima’s reaction.

Takao would, and probably always will, claim he saw Midorima’s lips curl up into the most amused smile of the century. Midorima would, predictably, deny it vehemently, but wouldn’t bother to deny that he did in fact think it hilarious, and actually laughed for a moment. It was quite possibly Takao’s finest moment in his comedic career.

Then, as swiftly as he had turned around, Midorima spun to walk forward once more toward the very back of the store, which was getting slightly dimmer and less laundry-smelling as they progressed.  Takao began to wonder, rather frustratedly, why on earth Midorima hadn’t grinned and why it was starting to smell like a gym locker room. His answer come on swift, if somewhat smelly, wings.

The back of the store had oversized items, many huge, others just heavy, that no normal human being would ever want to cart around. Some of this did, actually, include gym equipment, like a bench press and a few hexbars. Midorima slipped past all these items and stopped before a pyramid of medicine balls, none of which bothered to weigh anything less than eight pounds. Takao felt the urge to laugh coming on. Of course, Midorima knew that he couldn’t pick the heaviest one, which would undoubtedly have the most luck, but also the highest price. He chose, with a twinge of regret, one of the lighter ones. Takao almost groaned.

Of all the medicine balls, ranging from eight pounds to a rather uncomfortable thirty-six, Midorima had chosen, of course, the twenty-four. That wasn’t going to be fun to cart around. Takao could almost hear all the complains his teammates would be issuing the next day, and the jibing comments Midorima was sure to get. Well, Midorima was Midorima, and he was nothing if not consistent in his superstitious ways. With a grunt, the green-haired teen picked up the medicine ball, green stuffed animal still somehow in his taped grasp, and made the somewhat slow journey back to the cashier’s counter.

Takao, still in his bumblebee headband, sidled up beside him. The bright, if somewhat tired, young lady behind the counter gave the hawk-eyed teen one look before a grin split her face and a few chuckles spilled from her lips. It was a rather ridiculous look. She rang up Midorima, accepted the money and handed back some change, and halted Takao when he attempted to pay for his headband. “You can have it.” She said, trying to muffle her laughter. “On the house.” Takao’s chest swelled with pride at the fact that he was able to laugh himself out of paying for something. It also gave him a few not quite legal ideas for how to continue doing so in the future. Midorima gave a long suffering sigh and left without a word, Takao in tow.

“I’ll carry that for you.” The hawk-eyed boy chirped, practically stealing the none too light medicine ball. Said boy immediately regretted making such a decision, but decided that he’d do it, especially if it made Midorima a little happier. The green-haired teen was much more amused by the thought of Takao continuing to wear his new headband, not that he’d ever admit it, of course (something that Hisae would rebuke him for later).

“Do what you will.” Midorima quipped, pushing his glasses up in his usual fashion. Takao always ended up doing what he wanted anyway, so there really wasn’t much to be said. Hisae and Hibiki soared overhead and wove through branches.

“Hey, Shin-chan, do you always go to that store?” Takao asked, hiding his struggle with the medicine ball. Midorima looked at Takao with both suspicion and curiosity.

“Usually, unless my item can be found elsewhere. They’re very reliable, and Oha Asa-approved.” The green-haired teen answered. That figured. Of course Midorima would only go to places to buy lucky items if they were Oha Asa-approved. After all, he was nothing if not consistent. Takao snickered.

“Next time you go...” Takao wondered if his question would get a strange reaction out of Midorima, or if he’d take it in stride. “...would you take me with you?” It certainly did get an interesting reaction of of Takao’s Shin-chan. The reserved teen’s face felt a slight flush, and his cheeks were more pink tinted than socially acceptable. Takao was very pleased with Midorima’s reaction.

“Do what you will.” Midorima said as he cleared his throat. It wasn’t easy, you know, having a romantically-compatible sign be his partner, especially when feelings became involved. Not that Midorima Shintarou would ever, ever admit to having feelings for anyone. Takao, on the other hand, would be much more liberal on his affections, and knew quite well that Midorima was far too tsundere to admit to anything. Sometimes having the eyes of a hawk was incredibly rewarding.

The rest of the walk passed in a comfortable silence, Takao’s headband bouncing with increased vigor as he attempted to hide his struggle with the additional twenty-four pounds (which Midorima noted, and knew he wouldn’t admit to). It came time for them to part ways after a few more blocks. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Shin-chan!” Takao chirped as Hibiki dropped down to perch on his shoulder. Hisae fluttered about Hibiki for a moment before returning to Midorima.

“Take this with you.” Midorima said as he glanced away, tossing the green item at the dark-haired teen. Takao caught it with surprise. It was certainly green, very green, and looked extremely similar to Hisae. “It’s your lucky item for tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Shin-chan!” Takao sang as he started to walk away. “See you!” When Midorima got home, his mother scolded him on coming home late and couldn’t help but sigh at his new lucky item. She was far too used to his unusual ways by now to start complaining.

After dinner had passed and it was nearing time for Midorima to start thinking of sleep, his phone buzzed. Takao read the ID on his new text. Opening it, the green-haired teen was greeted with Takao’s winking selfie from the store, bumblebee headband included. With a chuckle and a slight smile, Midorima saved it to his phone. 


End file.
